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by Apuzzlingprince



Series: IT Fanfics [20]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Florida Husbands, Fluff, M/M, Passion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-13 08:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21241313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apuzzlingprince/pseuds/Apuzzlingprince
Summary: “We did,” said Bill. He raised his hand to the nape of Mike’s neck and spread his fingers over the stiff, tawny hair there, so close now that he could feel Mike’s breath rolling over his lips. “You aren’t torturing yourself over that thought, are you? Because none of us are angry. We’re just- tired, and relieved, and…” He swallowed thickly. “You know, when you were standing there, ready to die, I was so fucking scared. If I’m mad about anything, it’s that you would ever think you deserved that. Losing you after just getting you back would have been... I don't think I'd have been able to cope with it, and- God, I was just so fucking scared, Mike.”Mike and Bill work through their trauma with intimacy.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is, the Hanbrough smut I promised! Hope you all enjoy my efforts!

The sky was bright, blue, and cloudless as the Losers vacated the lake. Already the morning air was beginning to warm. It was convenient weather considering the sodden state of their clothes, and only periodically would they shiver as they journeyed back to the hotel. They no longer smelt of the sewer. They smelt instead of the earth, of wet, and it was markedly better than carrying with them the odour of grey water. 

The walk back was short and punctuated with the sound of squelching shoes. Conversation was minimal. Once they had washed, dressed, and dedicated some time to saying goodbye to Derry, they would meet up at a restaurant for lunch. 

After the ordeal they’d just been through, the sudden return to normalcy was jarring. Their world had changed, but the world around them hadn’t, so there was no speaking to law enforcement, no offering comfort to those who had lost a loved one, no acknowledging It’s death at all beyond their little group. They would simply wash, bathe and eat, and it was comforting and strange to Bill in equal measure. 

Bill took a long shower. Far long than necessary, and periodically his gaze would drift to the drain, as though expecting Pennywise to emerge from it. It wouldn’t, of course, but being back in Derry meant he’d recovered all the old habits he’d held as a kid and as the saying went: old habits died hard.

There were wounds he hadn’t noticed until nude. Cuts on his forearms, a developing bruise on his thigh, scrapes on his palms and knees, a fine cut on his lip. He disinfected them all and slapped on a few band-aids in the hope of avoiding an infection. His thoughts were so adrift that he barely noticed the sting of them. 

He dressed in a long-sleeved, button up shirt to avoid having his injuries become a spectacle. After It had shadowed him for his time in Derry, he desperately needed to get away from prying eyes. 

When he left the hotel, he noted that Ben, Beverly and Richie had already vacated the foyer. They’d likely already settled on what they wanted to do during their remaining time in Derry. Bill wished he had even a fraction of that certainty. He could go and visit Georgie’s mock-grave, reminisce about Stan, place some flowers by Neibolt for Eddie- there was plenty he could, and perhaps_ should _ do, but he felt so strangely detached from himself and everything that had happened that it was hard to settle on what he _wanted _to do. When he tried to examine his thoughts, it was like trying to dig through sand. He didn’t seem able to process everything with the same ease he had as a child. Children were good at that, bouncing back from the horrors of life, but adults tended to be crippled by their hardships. 

He walked aimlessly through the streets. Or at least, he thought he did, which made it startling when he found himself ascending the steps to Derry’s local library. A note on the door informed anyone seeking to enter that the Library was shut. Bill, however, found the door unlocked, and he let himself into the dimly-lit depths of the library. 

“Mike?” he called. There was a quivering quality to his voice that he didn’t manage to stifle. 

He heard a thump from upstairs, followed by swift footsteps. Mike appeared at the stairs landing barely a few seconds after being called. 

“Bill?” He approached, and just like Bill, he was clean, in a fresh set of clothes. Whatever soap he’d used while washing was faintly fruity. The thought of Mike Hanlon browsing for fruit-scented bathroom supplies made Bill smile. “Are you alright?” Mike asked, his brow furrowed in concern. 

“Yeah, I’m-“ Well, maybe not fine, but he was clean and dressed and_ alive _, at least. “It’s just… everything, you know? We’ve fit a lot into the past day.” He ran a hand up into his damp hair, displacing a few dark curls. “I don’t really know what to do with myself, but you’ve been there for me while I’ve been here, so if you wouldn’t mind dealing with me for a few more hours…” 

“Are you kidding? Of course I don’t mind spending a few hours with you, Bill.” Mike slipped a hand around to the small of his back, guiding him deeper into the library. “I wouldn’t mind spending far longer than that with you, in fact, but I’ll settle for a few hours.” 

Bill slumped in relief, absentmindedly leaning into Mike. “Sorry Mikey, just wanted to be sure you didn’t need some time to yourself.” Mike radiated warmth and Bill found it soothing, sought to press deeper into it. Mike accommodated him by coiling his arm further around Bill’s waist. “Glad you don’t,” Bull continued, voice faint. “Company might help get my thoughts together.” 

“Honestly? Mine too,” said Mike. “I’m a little… I suppose ‘unbalanced’ is the closest way to describe it. I’ve spent so many years waiting for this day. Now it’s over.” 

“Twenty-seven years.” Bill turned to face him once they were upstairs, so close that he had to set his neck at an angle just to look Mike in the eyes. “If not for you, Mike, we probably would have died horribly just like Beverly saw. We owe you so much.” 

“Even though I lied?” asked Mike, his voice tentative, maybe a little frightened. 

Bill’s hand dropped between them, closing over Mike’s and giving it a squeeze. “You thought it would work. Would’ve liked the whole story, but…” He ran the pads of his fingers over Mike’s knuckles. “None of that matters now. We beat it.” 

Mike gave a short, shuddering sigh and hunched over, forehead coming to rest gently against Bill’s. “But if we didn’t-“ 

“We did,” said Bill. He raised his hand to the nape of Mike’s neck and spread his fingers over the stiff, tawny hair there, so close now that he could feel Mike’s breath rolling over his lips. “You aren’t torturing yourself over that thought, are you? Because none of us are angry. We’re just- tired, and relieved, and…” He swallowed thickly. “You know, when you were standing there, ready to die, I was so fucking scared. If I’m mad about anything, it’s that you would ever think you deserved that. Losing you after just getting you back would have been... I don't think I'd have been able to cope with it, and- God, I was just so fucking scared, Mike.” 

Mike was quiet for a long moment, his eyes half-lidded, glassy, and then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Bill’s. It was a short, hot kiss with open mouths and the graze of teeth, and it wasn’t like the kiss he’d had with Beverly - confusing and prompted by memory - and nor was it like the harried, borderline professional kisses he’d had with Audra; instead it held in it a profound feeling of being _whole_. His marriage to Audra was already on the rocks, but he knew now that there was no returning to it, that the break she had insisted upon when he'd left for Derry would be permanent. 

His eyes became glassy as Mike drew him close, arms solid and warm around his waist, and he could taste the salt of both their tears as their lips met for another kiss. He let Mike back him deeper into his living quarters and dropped obligingly onto the couch when it jarred against his calves. When Mike clambered onto the couch with him, he parted his legs so Mike could slip between them. He slotted easily against Bill, heavy and muscular and hot, and Bill felt fine hairs under his fingers as he slipped a hand beneath Mike’s shirt. 

A soft, breathy groan left Mike as Bill curled a hand around one of his pecs, tracing the dip of it with a thumb. He was sensitive. In those twenty-seven years it wasn’t likely Mike had been intimate with many people, if any at all. Bill himself had only ever slept with two people, and he’d had a dry spell in the past year or so, courtesy of his and Audra’s busy schedules, so he was glad they would both be fumbling through this. 

He dropped his head back against the armrest as Mike moved to mouth his neck. His lips were full, warm and soft, and Bill let out a little groan of his own at the sensation of them dragging up the column of his throat. The slightest application of teeth had him shivering in appreciation, his nails digging into the soft of Mike’s chest. Not hard enough to be painful, but enough to let Mike know he appreciated what he was doing. 

At some point his eyes involuntarily closed and a few tears squeezed free and slid over the rise of his cheekbone. He could feel Mike’s tears, too, gathering against his skin, and he cupped Mike’s face in hand and swiped his thumb over his cheek to displace the moisture there. 

“Mike,” he murmured, not daring to open his eyes. “I want you to- to-“ It was embarrassing to say out loud and he always had been easy to fluster. “I want to feel you,” is what he eventually settled on. 

“Inside?” asked Mike quietly. 

A sound of embarrassment, soft and high, squeezed out of his throat. “Yeah.” 

“Have you done this before?” asked Mike, rising from under Bill’s chin to kiss away any lingering tears. That act, so gentle and affectionate, had Bill shedding even more of them. “Because I haven’t.” 

“Neither have I,” said Bill with a nervous titter. That didn’t stop him from reaching down between them and working them free of their trousers. Mike obligingly lifted his hips. “We’ll work it out, like we always do.” 

“Just tell me if it gets uncomfortable, alright?” 

“We just fought a sewer clown,” said Bill, voice a touch wry, peeling open his eyes to gaze at Mike. “I can deal with some discomfort.” 

“Yeah, but that’s not what I want this to be.” Mike assisted in shoving their trousers down around their thighs, then closed his hand over Bill’s cock, already stiff and tenting the front of his boxers. Bill let out a low, stuttering groan and canted his hips into it, encouraging Mike to touch him directly. “I want this to be nothing but _good _,” Mike whispered, voice so low and grating that it scraped over Bill’s nerves. “We’ve had too much misery lately. I don’t want that to be the only thing you take from Derry.” 

“It will be good.” He practically breathed the words. “Because it’s you. You were the best thing to come out of this mess.” 

“And you’re the best thing to have happened to me in a long while.” 

When Mike’s hand slipped beneath his boxers and curled around the base of his cock, Bill’s hips involuntarily bucked and he spread his thighs further to encourage movement. Mike was quick to oblige, and it was a good thing the library was closed, because no doubt someone would have overheard the groan he gave in response. They were slow, languid strokes, but pleasant enough that his head fast became hot and fuzzy. He was sure there was a blush on him that reached right down to his neck, perhaps even his chest. 

The slide of soft, leathery flesh over the underside of his cock startled him into looking down, and he was met with the sight of Mike’s cock pressed against his own, dark and red-tipped, a stark contrast to the pink of his own cock. Mike carefully took both of them in hand and stroked, and it was together now that they moaned, breaths feathering over each others skin. 

He curled his arms around Mike’s neck and ground up, eager for friction, lacking any real rhythm or coordination. Mike, on the other hand, was careful to keep things slow and intimate, enforcing a pace that left them both shivering from head to toe. If this little could get them worked up, Bill expected the sex itself to ruin his composure completely. But he didn’t mind that. He didn’t mind being vulnerable in front of Mike, and Mike with his glassy eyes, wet cheeks, and periodic trembling clearly didn’t mind being vulnerable in front of him either. 

He leaned his face into the side of Mike’s neck, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and fruity shampoo as Mike worked them both into hardness. Mike might not have had practice being intimate with a man, but clearly he’d had some interaction with the concept. Bill himself had watched gay porn plenty in his youth- less so once he’d gotten a wife, since watching gay porn (or any porn at all) had felt wrong while married. Perhaps Mike had indulged in it as well. It would certainly explain the confidence of his strokes, the way he knew to strengthen his hold at the base and roll the head of his cock over Bill’s frenulum to elicit the strongest reactions. If that was the case, Bill may just ask him what videos he liked best… but that was something to address when they weren’t quite so busy. 

He angled his head so his lips were pressed to Mike’s pulse point and it jumped and skittered as Bill applied kisses to and around it. Mike liked having his neck kissed just as much as Bill, evidently. Maybe even more, and Bill filed that away for later use, lathing the flat of his tongue over Mike’s pulse while Mike's strokes picked up speed. 

Neither of them were going to last much longer. That was evident in the pre-come that pearled on the tip of their cocks, which Mike used to create some slick between them. Bill shoved his heels into the couch cushions, arching his back, hips grating against Mike’s, and pressed his face hard into Mike’s throat – into that thrumming pulse – as climax approached. 

But the hand slowed before he could tip over the precipice. It slowed, and then stopped, and Bill whined in frustration. 

“Don’t want to finish just yet,” said Mike, soft and tremulous. He reached over Bill’s shoulder and in his peripheral vision Bill could see that he’d grabbed a bottle of hand lotion. He imagined that was a daily necessity after so many years spent working on a farm. 

“Oh, ri-right,” Bill murmured. With some difficulty due to the sensitivity of his privates, he shunted his jeans the rest of the way off and curled his legs against Mike’s sides, permitting him access to the soft, pink furl of his entrance. 

Mike squeezed a generous amount of the lotion into his palm and spread it over his fingers. “I don’t see this often. Preparation, I mean,” he mumbled, which confirmed Bill’s suspicion that he’d watched gay porn. “Not for more than a moment or two, anyway, but I want to make sure you’re loose.” He dragged the pads of his fingers over Bill’s hole, getting it slick. “Ready?” 

“Come on,” Bill breathed. “I’m beyond ready.” 

“Eager,” said Mike with a little, strained laugh. 

Bill tightened his grip on Mike’s shoulders as a finger slowly, steadily breached him, coiling within him to spread the lotion. It felt strange. Not bad strange, just- strange, and it made Bill’s face warm to the point of leaving him dizzy. He shifted his ass onto Mike’s thighs, and it enabled him to reach far enough to stroke the tip of his finger over a delightfully sensitive bundle of nerves. Bill gasped, toes curling reflexively, and Mike continued to gently work at that bundle while watching Bill’s reactions with rapt interest. 

He wanted to reciprocate, grind his hand down on Mike’s cock until Mike was moaning just as loud as he was, but that buzzing, coalescing pleasure made focusing on anything else impossible. He loosened in Mike’s lap, legs sagging apart, grip slackening over Mike’s shoulders, head lolling to the side, and let himself yield to Mike’s touch. He barely felt the second finger being added, relaxed as he was, and Mike was able to apply a pressure to his sweet spot that left his thighs trembling. 

He folded an arm over his face to muffle the sounds he was making. It had minimal success, courtesy of the way Mike began to gently piston his fingers in and out. Each inward thrust was a jolt through him, and god, he wasn’t going to last if Mike kept this up; his cock was already rigid and pearling with more pre-come. When Mike leaned down for another kiss, he pressed a soft, reedy moan against Mike’s lips and murmured, “I’m too close.” 

“Oh,” said Mike, slowly drawing his fingers out to instead begin applying lubrication to his cock. “Sorry babe, it was easier to judge with the other thing.” 

“Babe?” Bill mumbled, regarding Mike curiously. 

Mike cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. “Sorry, that just slipped out.” 

“No, I- I like it.” Not exactly surprising, given how much he enjoyed nicknames. He’d always been amused by ‘Big Bill’ prior to ending up short enough that it was no longer applicable. Being called babe elicited quite something else, of course; it made him feel _loved_. 

“You like being called babe, babe?” Mike smiled against his mouth, moving his hands to Bill’s hips and heaving him closer. His cock brushed the clef of Bill’s ass and Bill swallowed in anticipation. “I’ll make it a habit, then.” 

“I’ll have to think up something for you,” Bill murmured. His eyes were still wet and he expected there’d be more tears before this was through. He lifted his hips so to press the head of Mike’s cock against his entrance, which drew a sharp breath from Mike. “Come on. I need you.” 

Those words had a greater impact on Mike than he’d expected. He closed his eyes, trembled a moment, and bowed his head against Bill’s shoulder. Bill raised a hand to his hair and threaded his fingers into it, stroking his scalp. 

“I need you,” he said again. 

Mike positioned his cock with a tremoring hand, pressing their bodies flush together and turning his head to murmur against the corner of Bill’s mouth. “I need you too. I…“ Slowly, his cock breached Bill, and it was thick and hot and prompted Bill to give a rapturous groan. “I love you,” Mike said, his voice low and guttural. 

Bill opened up so easily to him, took him in right to the hilt like it was nothing. He was relaxed, aroused, and that made his body accommodating. He curled his free hand around to Mike’s back to provide himself with some leverage as Mike began to move. The first few thrusts were slow, conscious of Bill’s comfort, but they began to pick up speed when Bill gave no indication of being in the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I-I-“ It was hard to speak while the head of Mike’s cock was brushing over his sweet spot with every thrust. Mike was trying different angles, watching him through wet, half-lidded eyes while he sought the most effective one. Bill could feel a tremble in his shoulders. “I… I love y-you, Mikey,” he managed, just barely, his fingers curling at Mike’s nape. 

He lifted his legs and folded them over Mike’s back, heels pressing into the small of Mike’s spine to encourage every thrust. To say it was ‘good’ would have been an understatement. It was incredible, it was euphoric. Both of them were shaking and teary-eyed and grasping onto each other for leverage as they rocked together, and Bill didn’t think he’d ever felt this wonderful or close to another person before today. He could see that same sentiment on Mike’s face. 

They would never be able to go back from this. They would never want to. There was something irrevocable in this act, and Bill was glad because he couldn’t fathom letting Mike go after reuniting with him after twenty-seven long years. 

Mike eventually located an angle that had Bill arching off the couch with a gasp, his ass clenching and his cock throbbing at the surge of pleasure. He wasn’t going to last and he didn’t care. He pressed his hands and feet tight against Mike’s back, encouraging his thrusts deeper, as deep as they could go, his nerves singing with impending orgasm. He looked blearily up at Mike and Mike’s face was flushed and his eyes lidded, his pupils blown so wide as to almost make his irises appear black. His mind produced a few choice words – beautiful, perfect – before a particularly well-aimed push of Mike’s cock rendered it blank. 

Trapped as it was between them, his cock didn't need to be touched. It slid against Mike’s sweat-slick stomach, between his abs, and that was enough to send Bill over the edge, splattering both their skin with pearly white come. A groan rose from him and he crushed his mouth against Mike’s before it died away, pressing it past Mike's lips. 

Mike returned the kiss with just as much vigour, continuing to rock deep into Bill, seeking his own orgasm. Despite how tired and wrung-out Bill was, he still pushed back into every thrust, wanting Mike to feel just as good as he had. It wasn’t long before his efforts paid off, and Mike finished with clenching thighs and a tremoring body and a low, guttural moan that had Bill's cock stirring again. 

Both of them fell bonelessly to the couch once the roiling pleasure had subsided. It was several minutes of panting and exchanging idle kisses before Mike withdrew, his movements slow and careful, and Bill was surprised by how wrenching the sense of loss was. He pulled Mike down under his chin, holding him close in an effort to fill that gaping chasm with his solid warmth – and that was enough. 

They were a mess. Covered in band-aids and bandages, sweaty and dishevelled, come splashed across their skin, and Bill had never been more comfortable. 

“So,” he said after a long, peaceful silence, running his fingers idly through Mike’s hair. “Florida?” 

He could feel Mike’s lips stretch into a smile against his clavicle. 

“Florida,” he confirmed. “I hope that means you’re interested in going with me.” 

“Well, I have a few loose ends to wrap up, but after that-“ He gave a lopsided smile. “I can get us VIP passes to Disney World.” 

Mike laughed softly, and maybe it was just the afterglow of great sex, but Bill thought it was the most pleasant sound he’d ever heard. 

“I’m guessing we’ll make a beeline for the Twilight Zone ride?” 

“Obviously,” said Bill, audibly amused. “Twenty-seven years, and you still know me so well.” 

“Well...” Mike hesitated. “I did keep an eye on you while I was in Derry.” 

“Lucky for you, I consider that sweet.” 

He closed his teeth over a yawn, letting his head lull to the side, cheek against the rough fabric of the couch. He had a lot of reasons to be tired and they were all bearing down on him in the aftermaths of their lovemaking. But it wasn’t an unwelcome exhaustion like it had been before, at the quarry, with remnants of their ordeal lingering on their skin, with tears and whimpering and a pervading cold. It was the relaxing kind, the kind that promised quiet dreams despite their ordeal. 

“Think we could grab some shuteye?” he asked, adjusting his legs so Mike was more comfortably situated between them. 

“Well, I’m sure not moving from this couch,” said Mike, already closing his eyes. “And if I’m not moving, you definitely aren’t.” 

“I’m not complaining in the least,” said Bill. 

A comfortable silence fell. Slumber was quick to drag them in, and as the last threads of consciousness left Bill, he thought it was only now, encased in Mike’s warmth, that he felt he had truly come home.


End file.
